


Familial Bonds

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Supernatural, The Brothers Grimm (2005)
Genre: Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Love, Crossover, Dean complains... a lot, Family, Forced to Face Past Trauma, Friendship, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Job Related Trauma, Light Angst, Protectiveness, Time Travel, Will and Jake need some mending, h/c_bingo Round 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23939992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: Dean and Sam are transported into nineteenth century Germany and encounter two legendary brothers who are more monster hunters than scholars.
Kudos: 3
Collections: Hurt/Comfort Bingo - Round 10





	Familial Bonds

**Author's Note:**

> Written for h/c_bingo [April Amnesty](https://immolate-the-silence.dreamwidth.org/?tag=collection:+h/c_bingo) for the prompts: crossover, job related trauma and forced to face past trauma. 
> 
> I couldn’t resist a crossover considering the similarities between these two sets of brothers :D

“So, wait a second. You don’t just collect all these tales but you help solve them too?” Sam asked, and Dean could tell he was about to geek out.

Even Dean had to admit, however, he was just the slightest bit intrigued. “Saving people, hunting things, the family business, that sort of thing? ‘Cause that’s our stock and trade.”

“And there you have it! What a fitting motto. Don’t you think so, Jake?” Dean almost snorted at Jake’s blatant eye roll, which could only have been from Will’s over-enthusiasm, something the latter was too oblivious to notice. Dean figured they must not meet too many interesting people. There was no record of Jake’s irritation by the time Will shot him a look of exasperation and pasted on that broad, overeager smile for the two of them again. “You’ll have to excuse my brother here. We’ve been away from civilized people for a good while. If you are _hunters_ as you claim, then perhaps you can help Jake and I here with a little ghost problem.”

“We’d appreciate that,” Sam cut in before Dean could say something that would probably be denounced as rude later. “Just until we get our bearings. We’ll pull our weight, whatever you two need.”

“Fantastic! Well then… are we all set, brother?”

Jake snapped to attention, handing Will the reins to his horse before pulling out a tattered and partially burned book. He thumbed through the pages, scribbling something while mumbling inaudible words he probably didn’t intend for anyone to hear. Dean tried not to show how skeptical he was about all this; nothing good could come from a book in _that_ state.

After what couldn’t have been less than ten minutes, Jake shut the book and nodded to Will, who then offered Sam the reins. Sam stared for a long moment before taking them and Dean echoed his hesitation. They could both ride, sure, but it had been awhile. He nudged his brother in the right direction. “You ride, Sammy. I’ll walk.” Sam looked like he was going to protest, probably something to do with those ridiculously long legs of his, but Dean wouldn’t have it. “We’ll switch off when we need to,” he promised, despite the both of them knowing he’d take that horse over his dead body.

That was when Dean noticed the other horse wasn’t a horse at all but a _donkey_. Legendary Brothers Grimm, huh? Clearly, Sam had noticed the same thing because he punched Dean’s shoulder in warning before he could bust out laughing. He’d ridden donkeys before too and he’d take a horse over one any day.

“Right, shall we?” Will inquired, waiting for Dean’s affirmation.

Whether Will and Jake had had that same conversation, Dean hadn’t paid attention, but he had a good feeling as Jake mounted his brother’s horse - donkey, _that_ was never going to get old - and watched him cautiously, refusing to move until Will was at a good pace ahead of him.

Dean thought he heard something under Sam’s breath that sounded like: Stupid, stubborn older brothers.

He turned his head away and smirked.

* * *

Dean, however, wasn’t smirking for long.

“There’s frills on their clothing, Sam. Frills and… puffy sleeves and they’re wearing freaking scarves!”

“Will you just focus, Dean? I mean, what do you expect, it’s the eighteen hundreds. It’s not like jeans and crew cut shirts were a thing back then, back…,” Sam faltered and awkwardly adjusted, “ _now._ ”

“Yeah well, it doesn’t change the fact that they’re dressed like girls. Poorly dressed girls. Not to mention there’s no personal hygiene, no cheeseburgers and the beer literally tastes like piss. We’re in freaking Germany and the beer tastes like piss!”

Sam huffed, glancing nervously around them. “I get it, Dean. You’re a twenty-first century man.”

“Damn right I am!" He was gonna let Sam’s snide tone slide, just this once, especially since he got the feeling Sam had wanted to say a lot more than that. “And just because you’re a history nut doesn’t mean you can convince me for one second that you’re actually happy to be here.”

Sam finally turned on him, giving Dean his full attention. “You’re right, okay? This wouldn’t be my first choice but at least I’m trying to make the best of it. If this is anything like what Gabriel did to us, we just have to stick to our roles. And maybe we can actually do some good here, solve a few cases, save a few people. I mean, isn’t that what we do? Not to mention, these are the _Brothers Grimm_ , man. They’re legends and we could learn a _lot_ from them.”

Pretty much everything Sam had said made sense; then again, Dean _hated_ being inconvenienced on a hunt and this… _this_ was just about the worst thing he could think of.

“Fine. But I am _not_ happy about this.”

“Noted.”

* * *

These were _not_ the Brothers Grimm.

For one thing, they seemed completely out of their element, winging pretty much everything and barely keeping it all together to cover that fact up. Also, with how often Will teased and scoffed at Jake and his most treasured possession: that almost roasted to a cinder journal apparently full of stories and sketches from their many travels, Dean got the very strong impression that he wasn’t a scholar and didn’t have much respect for them either.

Dean, however, could hardly fault him for his interest in the finer things in life. They even had the same taste in women, which was pretty awesome when it wasn’t weird. Dean actually couldn’t fault Will much at all, not when Jake’s wild theories strayed far outside the practical and veered into the dangerous, not when his brother seemed the only force great enough to steer them back into somewhat sound territory.

Still, Dean grudgingly had to admit they were a good team. If one stumbled then the other compensated. If one ran out of ideas then the other had a head full of them, only searching for the means in which to execute them.

Sometimes, oddly enough, it was like looking into a freaking mirror, which he had been hard pressed to admit to Sam despite catching him watching them with geeky fascination whenever the brothers weren’t paying attention. “Sammy, look, I know they were your childhood heroes and all…”

“It’s not just that, Dean.” Okay, wait a second, he _admitted_ it; Dean was only joking. “It’s just… they remind me a lot of someone. You know, Will, the cocky asshole who’s swallowing back his insecurity with every girl and every hunt. And Jake, the nerdy, book-smart little brother, stronger than he looks, wondering when his big brother will stop trying so hard.”

Dean swallowed, feeling much more uncomfortable than he had upon waking up that morning and realizing he was _still_ in this stupid fairytale world. He opened his mouth, to deny, to push back, to ask Sam what the hell he meant by all that but instead settled on his simple, classic conversation ender: “Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

* * *

Dean kept reaching for the gun tucked underneath his coat, the knife hidden securely in his boot, only for his hand to repeatedly come up empty. They hadn’t carried anything into this century other than the clothes on their backs and they were lucky even for that; Dean had just so happened to put on his warmest coat and boots that fateful morning. Sam was low-key mourning the loss of Internet and even access to a local library, but Dean hadn’t heard him complain _once_ since they’d been shoved into this backwards place, in a time which might as well have been the Dark Ages with how little Dean had access to and just how much got on his nerves.

The Brothers Grimm weren’t exactly packing either. Dean had yet to see anything other than a small knife that might work in a pinch but was probably more useful for slicing apples and cheese. There were other tools, but those things looked more like playacting props than useful weapons. How the hell they managed to survive this long, Dean had no idea other than that they were pretty damn resourceful. “I miss my _guns_ , Sammy. What kind of hunter doesn’t even have _one_ weapon?”

“Well, we used to have this magic armor,” Jake admitted to overhearing them.

“You’re still going on about that?” Will teased, saddling his brother’s horse after realizing he was caught up again in wherever his thoughts strayed to. “He’ll never forgive me for tossing that armor in the rubbish heap. And it wasn’t even magic.”

Jake apparently had been paying attention. He scoffed and turned on his brother, raising red flags that Dean might want to get the hell out of there before an argument that was best kept in the family erupted between them. “I _knew_ that, Will. I’m just saying it was useful and that it probably protected us because I _chose_ to believe it was magic. Sometimes that’s all it takes, believing in something other than yourself.”

Dean noticed then how Will disconnected from the conversation, turning away in defeat, idly rustling through something in his bag. Jake’s face somewhat crumpled, betraying a regret in what he had said but before anything else could happen, Will disappeared into the woods. Sam followed while Dean stayed put, also attempting to remove himself from Jake’s attempts at an explanation, not that the younger Grimm heeded it. He breached the space between them, idly flipping through his book while nervously adjusting his glasses and offering Dean an apologetic, embarrassed glance every few seconds. Dean didn’t think he’d ever met anyone as awkward as Jake Grimm; he couldn’t even claim Sammy had been this bad around girls when he was growing up.

“My brother made that armor. He’s a pretty brilliant inventor actually, at least… he used to be.”

“Something happen?” Dean offered because he didn’t want to stand here another five minutes while said _ex_ -scholar pondered and re-pondered and finally stuttered over his next words. “A hunt that went sideways?”

Jake fumbled, which made Dean feel more uncomfortable than he already was. “Sort of, I guess. It fixed some things, fixed me maybe, but I think it broke Will.”

Dean shrugged. “Well, booze and food is what does it for me and, of course, killing what needs to be killed. Sam tells me it’s not the best therapy, but if saving lives isn’t a helluva reason to live then I don’t know what is. But you’re not exactly like me either. You need a shrink, Sammy’s your guy. All’s I can tell you is patch it up, best you can. Remind him that family’s what matters, that you’ll always be there.” Dean hadn’t always been there, when Sam and Dad were fighting and he couldn’t stand being forced in the middle, and he knew there was a part of Sam deep down that would always resent him for that. Still, he’d take the resentment and anger any day if Sam was by his side for the rest of his life because _that_ would be the closest he’d ever get to paradise. “This life… I did it without Sam for a while and hated it. When I had a reason to get him back, I didn’t hesitate.”

“Will just always wanted to be famous. _Brother Grimm_ doesn’t have the same ring to it, he’d claim. He wanted coin and girls and tales told about us no matter how far we traveled. Maybe he was just lost. Maybe I didn’t know it, or maybe I did and didn’t care. Either way, I can’t think about going back to who I was before. I’d always worry about him, wondering what he was doing, longing for all the adventures he was having without me.”

“Trust me,” Dean replied. “From what I’ve seen and heard so far, the two of you are a pretty damn good monster ganking, ass kicking pair.”

Jake ducked his head shyly and went off after his brother.

* * *

From the looks of it, Will and Jake hadn’t much experience with ghosts.

Without rock salt, the Winchester brothers were at a serious disadvantage, especially since the other brothers’ tools and ways of handling problems were primitive and half-assed at best. Dean and Sam picked up the slack and scoured the village for clues, leaving most of the social interaction for the Grimm brothers considering the Winchesters spoke neither German nor French. Even with the four of them, however, it was still painfully slow going. Their efforts to save the village were met with suspicion and at times even downright hostility. Dean was used to meddling people standing in the way, blocking his efforts to save their asses and making his job ten times harder, but it was a bit more difficult when you were depending on said village for lodging, food and information that could save or destroy a whole helluva lot of people.

Monster hunting was a _lot_ more difficult here than it had any right to be.

Most of Dean didn’t want to look at it that way, acknowledging how much easier he and Sammy had it in the modern era. Most of Dean didn’t want to admit how Will and Jake seemed to charm or reason their way in or out of pretty much every situation, or at least managed to scrape by enough to survive another day in a world that endlessly seemed to want them dead. Living without modern amenities like cell phones and laptops, not to mention even the most basic of things such as decent ready-made meals and a change of clothes and showers and even a friggin’ toothbrush was miserable enough, but living without any hope of surviving the next day gave a whole new meaning to the world bleak.

Simple injuries they could usually just brush off could be life-threatening here, and Dean didn’t even want to think about how easy it would be for someone with a grudge to capture, torture and murder any one of them and get away with it. Sometimes Dean felt like he was living in a video game, only if he got killed off in whichever level he was in he was damn sure he wouldn’t be coming back.

At least in their world they had hospitals and easy access to weapons and simple things like salt and holy water; he doubted dipping a cross in ale would have the same effect on demons. In this nineteenth century world, there was no easy way to get anything. There was no easy _period._

Maybe it would have been better had Dean stayed focused on the girly clothes that reeked of horse even when he washed them, _hand_ washed them; or the fact that it would be damn difficult to burn bones without a lighter handy; or even that he couldn’t get a decent beer and pretty quickly swore off booze altogether, which Sam reluctantly admitted was a feat for him.

Instead, he thought about what had driven this ghost to an angry, vengeful afterlife, coming to realize that it wouldn’t take too damn much living in this hellhole.

“Dean!”

He tuned just in time to see the house ignite like a tinderbox, the surrounding trees ignited into eerie beacons of hellfire. Dean jumped back more than ran, the heat pouring over him like an inferno. Jake and Will stumbled after him, coughing profusely, faces and hands coated in soot, the former clutching that damn book of his to his chest and the latter trying to regain his footing and keep up with his brother.

And then the world exploded.

* * *

Dean woke to Will being called incessantly, growing in volume and urgency and hell-bent on exacerbating his headache. He failed to sit up the first time and barely managed it the second, groaning from almost overwhelming fatigue, ignoring the sharp twinge in his arm. His rapidly clearing vision honed in on Jake hovering over his brother, who seemed to be having a harder time regaining consciousness than Dean had. Jake was panicking, alternating from tapping his brother’s cheek to gripping his shoulder and shaking him furiously, all the while shouting his name.

It was clear the rest of the world meant nothing to him.

Dean would recognize that look from anywhere, specifically all the times Sam tried to mother-hen him into an early, almost willing grave. He suspected Will was no less protective of Jake, but the sight of the two brothers shell-shocked him for longer than it should have. Maybe because it hit too close to home. Maybe because as much as anything Will did or said seemed to annoy Jake, he had often seen flickers of the younger brother’s adoration or amusement, things which Dean clearly hadn’t imagined after all.

The two of them were a set, opposites who balanced each other out. Tear one away and the other crumbled.

Jake was like Sam in so many ways: the scholar, the dreamer, sensitive and whip smart and so… _so_ much stronger in will than Dean. Without someone to ground him and remind him where home was, he’d wander aimlessly through his life with a fake regard, with no actual purpose. From the little he had gleaned, Jake had run away from home too, only for Will to drag him back out into the world again years later. Something had made Jake stay and Dean could only hope that the next time Sam had to make that decision, he would choose to remain a family.

Will regained consciousness eventually, hand coming away from his forehead bloody. Dean couldn’t see much from where he was at and hoped it wasn’t bad. His brother, at least, seemed to be worrying plenty. “You’re bleeding, Will.”

“Must have… knocked my head on something. Help me up, will you, brother?”

Now that the brothers were accounted for, he had his own to worry about. “Sam!”

“Over here, Dean.”

His head whipped around, a thoughtless mistake since it increased the throbbing in his skull, but relief surged through him as he spotted his brother nearby, resting at the bottom of a tree. He thoroughly looked him over even though there were no wounds he could see. “You okay?”

“Think I just tripped over a branch or something. Ankle’s a little sore, that’s all.”

As soon as Sam shifted his position, Dean was convinced enough to focus his attention back on the two brothers. Will was already on his feet but Jake was stubbornly behind, hands inches from his shoulders braced to catch him if he should fall. Either Will was oblivious to this or unphased by it, though Dean suspected it was the latter when Jake made him take the donkey, helping him up onto it. He slapped Will’s boot when he swayed, jerking him back to consciousness with a stern frown.

None of them were probably fit enough to ride but they took it slow, inching forward, eager to get away from the town they had saved and yet had very nearly tried to kill them.

Before the afternoon had faded, long before they were within sight of the next closest town, Jake grew tired of continuously jolting Will back to wakefulness and joined him, arms sliding around his brother’s waist and taking the reins from his nearly limp fingers. Will didn’t react, using the opportunity to doze while Jake spoke to them about where they were headed. Sam slowed his pace, frowning at Dean when he made no move toward him.

Sam politely engaged in conversation with Jake and occasionally laughter even broke through Dean’s musings. It was something he resented for a split second before he accidentally let his gaze drift to the elder Grimm: unconscious, face pale save for the long line of blood trailing from his hairline down to his ear. He swallowed the knot in his throat and hurriedly shifted his attention back to their path. They had been lucky today. The brothers didn’t resent their company or their help and for once, in a recent string of bad hunts, Sam _hadn’t_ gotten hurt. He had that to be grateful for and he had no right to criticize how Sam was coping with any of this. God knew Dean wasn’t; he wasn’t even trying.

Dean grit his teeth at Sam’s repeated attempts for them to switch places and waited until the night completely fell around them, only then giving into his brother’s bitch face. Once on the horse, he slowed his pace even further until Sam could comfortably walk beside him, never out of Dean’s line of sight. It meant taking longer to reach the town and rest his legs, made Dean miss Baby so much it physically hurt, but that decision had already been taken out of their hands.

Once they had booked a room for the night, Dean was so tired he nearly fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but once he realized the brothers were taking longer to settle down for the night, he opted to feign sleep and watch for a little while. It was nowhere near as good as cable but it was something.

Jake seemed just as frantic toward and overprotective of a conscious Will. His hands fluttered as they adjusted the blankets wrapped around his brother, trembling fingers rattling the bowl of soup until he was satisfied with what Will had eaten and put it down. The elder Grimm seemed too tired to protest but as Dean certainly would have, he did anyway. “I’m alright, Jake.”

The youngest bit his lip and shook his head, hovering but not knowing quite what to do, finally pacing in anxiety. “First you fall into that river, Will. And don’t try to tell me it wasn’t cold, it _is_ early winter. Then you jump in front of me and get thrown into a tree. And finally the exp... the explosion.” Jake shuddered, collapsing to the floor as if an overseeing presence plucked his marionette’s strings too hard. He brought his trembling hands up to his head, fingers digging in so hard it had to hurt, eyes squeezed shut as if the world was too much for him to bear, and all the while he rocked back and forth and emitted sharp, breathless sobs.

Dean told himself that if he were a decent man he would stop listening in and _especially_ stop watching. Chick flick moments made him uncomfortable and yet there was something about the scene that he couldn’t shut out. This level of familial intimacy was something he’d never witnessed and like a car crash, he simply couldn’t look away.

Will reached out, hands just barely grasping his brother’s shoulders. “Aww, no, don’t. Please stop, Jakob...”

Jake stopped rocking, wiping his nose on his sleeve. His eyes were both anguished and accusatory as they pinned his brother in place. “You’ve been reckless, exactly how Sam describes Dean.” Dean’s hackles raised at that. This wasn’t the time to think about what else Sam and Jake had talked about; although, he suspected it was hardly fair when he had had conversations with the brothers himself. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. It’s like you’re trying to prove something and you _can’t_ , Will... not again.”

“But, Jake, don’t you see?” Will’s enthusiasm, while true to his character, seemed feverish now. It seemed horrifyingly _real._ “You have it all figured out, don’t you, in that brilliant head of yours. In your _book_.”

He reached for Jake’s book and the youngest wrestled it away from him, slamming it down onto the floor. “Stop it, Will! I can’t do this without you. I won’t!”

Dean jerked slightly in alarm at Jake’s heightened despair but shut his eyes tight, not wanting the brothers to know he was still awake and eavesdropping; then again, it wasn’t exactly eavesdropping or spying if he couldn’t technically move, right?

“Alright,” Will coaxed. “Alright.”

That seemed to calm Jake, for the time being. “I’m not a one man act and nor do I want to be. Ever since the tower...”

“I know.”

“And she almost, if I hadn’t…,” Jake trailed off, likely giving up exactly when Dean wanted to know more.

“I _know_.”

Dean chanced reopening his eyes, watching Jake as he crawled closer to his brother, tears glistening in his eyes. “This is the happiest I think I’ve ever been. I know it might not be the same for you. I know you think you have penance to pay, that you owe me this but you _don’t_ , Will. You don’t owe me anything. I love you and that’s that. I don’t blame you for anything. I don’t regret anything. I just want you in this with me. I want you to stop throwing yourself in harm’s way because you’re convinced I have the strength to do this without you. We’re the Brothers Grimm because we solve it _together_. This is _our_ world now.”

Will’s mouth curled, just a shadow of a smile. He looked hopelessly exhausted, carved out, hollow and yet also oddly peaceful. “It’s a damn good time to be the Brothers Grimm, isn’t it?”

Jake swatted his shoulder, sniffing loudly in the sudden silence. “The best. Now…,” he rose, the backs of his hands bearing the moisture of his remaining tears, “off to bed.” He pulled the heaviest blanket off his brother’s shoulders, folding it at the end of the bed.

Either Will was too stubborn or didn’t take the hint. He pulled the remaining blankets tighter around him, unfolding his legs and stretching out on the ominously creaking wooden floor. Considering they were on the second floor, Dean hoped that it would actually hold. “I’ll just... tip over then.”

“Uh uh. _Up_ , Will, you’re taking the bed tonight.” Jake offered his hands, palms turned up.

“The floor’s too cold for you to sleep on.”

“Precisely. That’s why we’re sharing.” Clearly, given the lack of protest, the brothers had shared a bed before, something which unsettled Dean.

Dean closed his eyes again, figuring he’d seen more than enough to last for a lifetime of being here. He laid still, cursing the cold and cursing whomever had put them there but also, maybe because it was the only distraction he could think of, he wondered just what had transpired between the brothers to make Jake as upset as he had been. He suspected one of them had almost died, only because he recognized Jake’s near panic attack as what he himself had been tempted to succumb to with Sam dying in his arms. Just because it hadn’t been yesterday didn’t mean it wasn’t still haunting him.

_That_ being the last thing he wanted to dwell on, Dean thought instead of the ghost whose bones had been swept up in the inferno, the teenage girl who had terrorized the village they had fled from. She had driven three people to suicide and half a dozen more toward a grisly series of murders. If they hadn’t found her corpse, the results would have been catastrophic. Her fiery demise had taken half the town along with her, destruction which they hadn’t intended but would be blamed for regardless. It hadn’t shocked the Grimm brothers, who apparently were all too used to this treatment.

Dean thought about that girl, whose entire family had been slaughtered by the French, luck keeping her alive only to be driven insane. Again, he thought about how this was a world he imagined going insane in, but maybe that was only because he knew all this was past, because he knew better. Not so long ago, there was no way he would have pitied a vengeful ghost; it just proved that even the bloody and doomed life of being a hunter sometimes opened up your mind to other perspectives.

A long time after, Sam’s voice drifted over to him. “See, Dean, not all chick flick moments have to end badly.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

* * *

Sam was the one who found the letter the next morning, stuck to their door with a knife.

_Hey chuckleheads, Gabe here. You know, that pesky angel you kiddos just can’t stay on the good side of._

_But that’s okay, I don’t tend to hold grudges, I mean, you think this is bad? This is like a field trip for you guys and it’s pretty amusing for me too. Not even I have any idea what’s about to happen next. You two are my new favorite reality TV stars, by the way, so you can assume I’ve pulled some strings to keep you alive. My advice? Just relax, enjoy your time there and yes, obviously play your roles._

_After all, like Sammy said, you could learn a lot from those Grimm Brothers. I’d start taking notes. This is the best family therapy session you boys are ever likely gonna get. I’m doing you a favor really._

_Anywho, gotta go. Things to do, cake to eat, lovely ladies to seduce, yadda yadda yadda._

_Oh, and good luck._

Dean crumpled the letter in a fit of rage before unfolding it again and tearing it into as many pieces as he could manage.

“Son of a bitch!”

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

>  _Just a few things:_
> 
> The real life Jakob Grimm was the elder brother but for the purposes of this story, I’m not only making the Will and Jake from the film the real Brothers Grimm, or at least for Sam and Dean as far as we can tell, though they’re most likely way smarter than this, but also claiming “history” got it wrong on the age difference. Pay me no mind. 
> 
> In the film commentary, Terry Gilliam notes that Matt’s horse is, in fact, a donkey. I wonder if this was intentional because for Will it is so insulting it’s actually fitting for the tone of the film, not to mention absolutely hilarious. I have nothing against donkeys by the way, they’re adorable. Also, they can generally carry more weight than horses. 
> 
> It’s actually pretty eerie how similar Will and Jake are to Dean and Sam, respectively. Both the series and film premiered the same year, 2005, also. 
> 
> Thanks for reading this little self-indulgent piece. It’s far from flawless but I had fun with it.


End file.
